


Spurious Red

by yesiamsleepy



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: All Human, F/F, i'm a sucker for good big brother Lex, no powers, wine fraud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesiamsleepy/pseuds/yesiamsleepy
Summary: Lena Luthor could ignore a lot of things. Annoying investors breathing down her neck? Easy. Angry protesters dragging her name? No problem. Her mother hell bent on ruining her life? Well it wasn't new.But when a wine bottle that shouldn't exist makes its way into her possession, she'll be damned before she lets it go without solving the mysteryOr, the wine fraud au





	Spurious Red

 

The bottle taunted her.  
  
Lena did her best to focus on the paperwork in front of her. She had a very detailed report to go through. She had to approve expenditure for the upcoming gala. She had to formulate in-depth strategies on how to deal with the man-babies currently on her board. In short, she had a lot of work to get through.  
  
But that damned bottle kept taunting her.  
  
With a huff, Lena pushed her keyboard aside, knowing it was futile to try to get through anything else while the problem, for a lack of better word, kept circling in her head. It was a trait she had since childhood, once she became obsessed with a particular puzzle, it was near impossible deter her focus.  
  
It worked great for academics, often letting her spend hours poring over complicated theories while her peers took five minute breaks that often turned into hours on netflix, but it proved a particular hindrance when her brain latched onto seemingly inconsequential tasks.  
  
_Which it clearly did in this case.  
  
_ Glaring once more at the bottle in question, Lena buzzed her assistant. Ever the professional, Jess walked in less than two minutes later, tablet in hand ready to attend to whatever emergency her boss required her for. It had been three years since the young intern had joined the team as Lena’s assistant, and Lena couldn’t think of a better person for the job. She had stuck by her from the very beginning when the brunette was still gaining her foothold, through the mess with Lillian that almost saw her company destroyed, right up to present day. Her stolid presence was unwavering force, come hail or high water, angry protestor or disgruntled cop with an axe to grind.  
  
And there _were_ a lot of those.  
  
People often commented on her steely glare that could reduce grown men to quivering messes, but she had nothing on Jessica Hoang. No one, no matter how large their badge, got by Jess without being made to feel two feet tall for invading the sanctuary of her boss’ office.  
  
Loyalty like Jess’ was hard to come by, and Lena knew she would never take it for granted. _However, needling a little, that she would definitely do._  
  
“Jess, what do you know about wine?”  
  
The secretary paused, probably gathering her encyclopedic knowledge about everything. Or maybe regretting every life decision that led her up to this point. _The latter, more likely_ , Lena mused.  
  
“Wine, Ms. Luthor?” asked the secretary with an entirely too pleased tone for the question to be completely innocent. “I know you like them judging by how often they appear on the grocery list”  
  
Lena reigned in the childish urge to chuck an eraser at her friend, choosing instead to simply narrow her eyes. It had little to no effect. The younger woman had worked with her long enough to know what elicited her boss’ ire, and light banter was not even in the top ten. She smirked once, but sobered up quickly enough to answer properly.  
  
“I know L-Corp owns a few small vineyards, as well as having varying stake in more famous ones. I know we invested in them mainly because Lillian told you do _something productive_ with your money and at 17 you thought that was the perfect idea.”  
  
Lena smiled at the memory. By productive, Lillian had of course meant re-investing in Luthor Corp, no doubt in her eyes the family business superseding whatever Lena deemed important. So, she did exactly the opposite. Lena had been in a particular foul mood one day from Lillian’s constant barbs. That, coupled with the fact that she had to endure the woman criticizing the wine served at some fancy dinner party because it was not ‘refined enough’ for her taste sealed the decision.  
  
She bought the company the next day. Lillian had been furious, but Lex had thought it hilarious. He had even sent her a bouquet made up of different wines, in order to _start her education_ on the subject now that she was an owner, or so he claimed. Lena was fully convinced he did it purely because he knew it would amuse her and further annoy their mother.  
  
Whatever his intention though, the outcome had been unexpectedly instructional.  
  
The spontaneous decision turned out to be surprisingly lucrative, eventually leading her to look into other similar ventures. She went to visit distilleries she liked, to actually understand the intricacies of business and found she enjoyed learning about the historical side of the industry just as much as the financial aspect. And while Lena would never consider herself a connoisseur, she knew enough about wines to recognize the more famous ones.  
  
Which led her to her current dilemma. The bottle on her shelf, the one gifted to her by an old colleague as a Christmas gift, the one which continued to haunt her -- it wasn’t one she recognized.  
  
As far as she knew, there _was_ no 1929 Ponsot Clos de la Roche.  
  
Logically, Lena knew, there _could_ be some old wine she wasn’t aware of, but her gut told her that her intuition was right. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was so certain, but years of being raised as the daughter of a ruthless businessman had taught her to trust her instinct.  
  
“Don’t we have a stake in Domaine Ponsot?” Lena asked Jess, eyes still locked on the dark glass. Domain Ponsot, founded in 1872, was a French wine producer based in Burgundy. Lex had always been partial to Ponsot’s reds, but what attracted Lena most to the sprawling vineyards was their aversion to pesticides and fertilizers of any kind. Eco-harvesting was a rare thing even in these modern times, especially for a land size as large as the domaine’s.  
  
Jess nodded in affirmation. “We have a 10% stake in the estate and a personal invitation from Lauren Ponsot, the current proprietor to sample any of their recent harvests. He likes you,” she finished with a chuckle  
  
“Good. Call Lauren. I think we need to talk.”  
  
“Right away Ms. Luthor.”  
  
If the secretary noticed her boss’ fascination with the bottle, she did not mention it. The door closed with a soft click and Lena was left alone to ponder the mystery. She sent one last glare to the bottle in question, before turning back to paperwork.  
  
\-----  
  
Lauren Ponsot, as luck would have it, was on a cruise in the middle of nowhere. It was 3 days before Jess could get a hold of him, 3 days that Lena spent stewing in her own impatience and diving into research to confirm what she already suspected.  
  
“Lena, darling, how can I help you?” A tall, reserved man, Laurent seemed to have almost stepped out of a university catalogue featuring sweet nerdy professors. His graying hairline and impeccable suits further added to the image, while an ever-present smile seemed to say he was a good-natured genial old man. Most of the world seemed to regard him as a wealthy but jovial grandfather. Lena personally thought he looked a bit like the villain from Sense8, a fact which amused Jess to no end.  
  
“Laurent, thank you for getting back to me so quickly”  
  
A chuckle filtered through the speaker, “For beauty as fine as yours, anything.”  
  
Lena suppressed a grimace at that. And this was why she disliked having to deal with him. Laurent flirted like he breathed, and while the man had never been inappropriate, it was still grating to having to deal with. Although, she should be thankful for this quirk, after all it was how she had _persuaded_ him to part with a portion of his estate.  
  
“How is retirement coming along”  
  
“Lena, please,” he tutted good-naturedly, “You know very well this isn’t a retirement. This merely an opportunity to reinvent myself. Wine flows in my veins, and I shall produce your next favourite red. Just you wait.”  
  
The CEO hummed in agreement. “I wait with baited breath.” No reason to antagonize him, despite her skepticism.  
  
“Now,” his tone turned serious, “As much I like the banter, we both know you didn’t call me to exchange pleasantries. What is it you wished to ask?”  
  
Lena considered a moment. If she told him outright what she suspected, she knew he would get on the very next plane, thank her for her information and promptly take over her investigation. And really, she should let him, she had enough on her plate anyway. But…  
  
There was something delicious about this mystery, something Lena wanted to find out on her own. She felt the same thrill chasing this lead as the ones she got when a particular code wasn’t working and she kept turning it in her mind till something just _clicked_. She felt an urge to see this to its completion.  
  
_After all_ , she reasoned, _she could just let him know when it was done_.  
  
“Nothing too important.” Lena responded with a depreciating little laugh. “Just a little bet with Lex, that may have gone a bit out of control.”  
  
“Ahh sibling rivalry is never something trivial. I would know, I have two sisters,” he chuckled. “And from what I know,” amusement coloured his voice, “The Luthor siblings definitely know how to wage a war.”  
  
At that Lena did let out a genuine laugh. It was true some of their _wars,_ did tend to get out of hand, often ending up in the tabloids. But the press ate it up, the handsome scion of the Luthor Empire and his brilliant sister acting like any normal siblings, and so Lillian had to let it go without comment, despite privately seething at their antics.  
  
God, she missed Lex. She hadn’t seen him in months. The office was a lot lonelier without his intermittent appearance and inappropriate comments making her lose precious focus. _He just had to decide to join politics_. _And he just had to resign due to conflict of interest and leave Lena the entire mess. Stupid Lex._ Just for that, she would vote for his opponent.  
  
“Well yes, and apparently being a dignified councilman does not mean he actually grew up.” She would have to text him later so he could corroborate her story if needed. “The question I had was regarding your lovely vintage wines. Correct me if I am wrong, but your domaine did not estate bottle in 1929.”  
  
“That is, indeed, correct. Bottling started in 1934 when Hippolyte Ponsot, my grandfather took over the business. Back then it was rare to bottle and sell wines. Only a dozen or so domaines did it, and even fewer sold internationally.” Obvious pride for his ancestors coloured the winemaker’s voice. “He signed and labeled every bottle himself. Hippolyte Ponsot was a pioneer and someday I will be too.” He concluded somberly.  
  
“He was” Lena agreed readily, “And I am sure you will do great things too. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer the question.”  
  
“Anytime Lena.”  
  
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before finally hanging up.  
  
Lena slowly replaced the receiver and got up. It was still early, it had to be due the almost twelve-hour time difference, but it didn’t matter. The young CEO was practically buzzing. Laurent had confirmed everything she suspected and more.  
  
She walked over to the bottle in question and picked it up with one hand. It really was an exquisite bottle, solid glass, dark and thick to protect the liquid within. The soft light of dawn illuminated the embellished vine-leaf motif. An impossibility in the age of hand-stamped labels. And those offending numbers.  
  
_1 9 2 9  
  
_ Lena set the bottle down. She was one step closer.  
  
\-----

Finding out where the wine came from was a simple matter of asking the one who had given it to her. Jeffrey de Silva was a round faced balding man with a booming voice and a fondness for licorice that he offered to everyone who came into his office.  
  
He had known Lena since she was a toddler, ambling along with her father after his meetings. She used to hate the licorice, finding it much too sweet, but politeness made her accept even though, even back then, she knew Lionel wouldn’t reprimand her for her refusal. But Jeff used to light up every time she took one from his hand and murmured a quiet _thank you_. And that, more than anything else, made her accept each time, even though she often stuffed half of them in Lex’s pocket.  
  
Somehow, over the years, it had become a fond memory, wrapped in the quiet comfort of her father’s voice and days when all she had to worry about was how much of the sweet candy she would have to put in her mouth to fool Jeffrey.  
  
Age had rounded out his figure and turned what was left of his deep auburn hair into a mix of hazelnut and grey. But the smile was still the same and Lena found herself automatically responding to it.  
  
“Lena!” He greeted her jovially, licorice already in hand. “What brings you to my humble abode?”  
  
Gingerly she accepted and took a bite. Her calm façade in the face of the sugar that inundated her mouth was, in her professional opinion, definitely Oscar-worthy. “Actually, it’s about the lovely bottle of wine you gave me at Christmas.”  
  
“Was it good?” He asked eagerly. “I admit to knowing very little about wines. Your father and I preferred whiskey. Good strong liquor.”  
  
The younger woman smiled fondly at the declaration. She did remember. The smell of cigar, cologne and whiskey was till, to this day, a comfort, a reminder of when things were easier. “It was perfect. In fact,” she arched an eyebrow, “It is quite the rare find. Where did you get it?”  
  
He preened at the compliment and winked, “Well a man has to have some secrets, right?”  
  
Lena tried her best pout, and he held out for a minute longer before crumbling. He always had a soft spot for the youngest Luthor heir and the brunette was not above exploiting it.  
  
It was a private auction, though luckily held right here, in National City. Some acquaintance had made an off-hand comment about the rare vintages about to be displayed, he said, and he knew he had to get an invite. He didn’t actually know who supplied the wine, but that was fine. Lena had another link in the chain, and soon she would find the last one.  
  
Thanking the CMO profusely for his help, she made to leave but was stopped by a warm hand at her shoulder.  
  
“It was good to see you, Lena” The older man smiled at her warmly. “Don’t be a stranger.” And then, with a cheeky grin that made him look decades younger, he added “I promise to stop making you eat the licorice if you come by soon.”  
  
Well _damn_

\-----  
  
The manager at the auction house proved a surprisingly obstinate thorn in her path. Apparently, the list of buyers and sellers was private and nothing could persuade him to part with it. Few dared deny when a Luthor came calling, but not this one. Normally Lena would appreciate the man’s dedication, but right now it was only a hindrance to her plan.  
  
Frustrated she did what any self-respecting billionaire would do when faced with such a challenge, she bought the place. She ignored the voice in her head that continued laughing at how extra she being, the voice that sounded suspiciously like Jess. Discreetly, Lena did take surreptitious look at her surroundings to make sure her secretary wasn’t actually there.  
  
Jess could _not_ be allowed to find out she bought an auction house to chase down a wine supplier. She would never hear the end of it.  
  
Finding out that the woman in front of her was now her boss finally cowed the man down enough to let her get what she needed. He handed her a flash drive with the relevant data for the night of the auction.  
  
“Thank you” Lena whispered. She was this close to finding her culprit. She could practically taste it.  
  
Pulling a pen and a card out of her purse she wrote a number on it before handing it to her newest employee.  
  
“Call this number. Tell them Lena Luthor has asked them to double your salary. If they send me an email, I will confirm.”  
  
If the shock on the man’s face gave her just a tiny bit of thrill, well who was to know.  
  
_After all, loyalty should be rewarded_.  
  
\-----  
  
The light from the computer screen was the only source of illumination in the apartment. Odd shapes and ghastly shadows covered the wall but the lone human took no notice. The cat had already abandoned his perch by his owner. Unable to coax anything more than the cursory pats, he had, instead, cocooned himself among the laundry, ignoring the perfectly nice and expensive bed. If it was an act of protest, it was a futile one because the human did not even notice.  
  
It was well past 1 by the time Lena was done reading. She had started when it was still light outside and failed to notice the falling darkness, and thus dinner. Food was the last thing she was thinking about. Her mind buzzed with all the information she found. She needed a drink.  
  
Reflex took her to her wine shelf, but she balked as soon as realization caught up with her. She had had enough of _that_ particular beverage for today. Whiskey it was.  
  
The drive had contained all the details she needed, as well as the catalogue advertising the items on sale. There, prominently displayed, were the Ponsot brews with the 1929 Clos de la Roche occupying the prime slot. On the opposite page, without even a hint of irony, was the history of Domaine Ponsot complete with details of start of the practice of bottling wines in 1934.  
  
Lena shook her head. Someone had either been way too overconfident, or extremely stupid. Though judging by the fact no one realized it till now, she guessed, everyone was a bit of both.  
  
Other items featured in the same collection were the Clos St. Denis for years 1945, 1949, 1959, 1962, 1966 and 1971. Lena knew for a fact, that Jean-Marie Ponsot, Laurent’s father, didn't begin to produce the Clos St-Denis until 1982. In short, it was a mess.  
  
But, that was okay. Because she finally had a name.  
  
_El Mishidh_  
  
\-----  
  
Something was buzzing. Lena could hear it, but sleep had a solid hold on her and she was loathed to part with the comfort. Blessedly, the sound stopped, but before she could celebrate and burrow deeper into the pile of blankets, it started again with a renewed vigour.  
  
With a growl, she blindly slapped her hand on bed till she found the object of her irritation. An unintended victim of the mindless the violence, the cat, who had apparently chosen to return to Lena’s side, hissed and fled. Lena groaned inwardly. First last night, and now this. It would take her _forever_ now to win back his approval.  
  
Well, nothing to do now, except curse at whoever thought waking her up this early was acceptable.  
  
“What?” She practically hissed, knowing she was about to make some poor intern’s morning hell.  
  
“Leelee!” A cheerful, far too cheerful voice sang back. “Is that any way to greet your brother?”  
  
Lena groaned again, audibly this time. Some poor intern was one thing, Lex this early in the morning was a whole different nightmare. It required coffee, at least two cups, and she was running on zero, plus a mild hangover. She was contemplating just hanging up on him when his next words made her freeze.  
  
“A little birdie told me you bought the National City Auction House.”  
  
Oh no  
  
_Oh no_

Jess finding out was one thing. At best she could tease Lena and make hidden comments that would at least allow the CEO to keep her dignity in public. She understood discretion. Lex, on the other hand, couldn’t be discrete if his life depended on it. He would _torment_ her. Gleefully. Publicly. And he had more access to her.  
  
Oh God. She could already see this becoming his new favourite dinner joke. He _still_ liked to recount the time she broke into the principal’s car and handed her a list of all the negligent staff because she couldn’t gain access to her office. In her defence, _she was four_ , a fact which Lex found even funnier.  
  
“Who told you that?” Lena cringed at how panicked her voice sounded.  
  
If possible, his tone turned even more smug. “I may not be on the board any longer Lee, but I still have _friends._ ” He stressed the word meaningfully, though what meaning he was hoping to convey Lena had no idea.  
  
“I like to check up on my little sister from time to time, brag about how well she’s doing. Imagine my surprise, when I find out she apparently not only gained an auction house manager on her payroll, but also decided to double his salary. Now, tell me, this auction house wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with little text you sent yesterday, would it?”  
  
She could have slapped herself. Of course, he would still be a part of the company gossip. That man was worse than a gaggle of interns near the coffee pot. Often times, he would be the one _leading_ the gaggle of interns in the gossip for the day. Lex Luthor was a charming man, even Lena couldn’t deny that, though she would die before admitting it to his face.  
  
“Don’t you have important political schmoozing to do?”  
  
“First of all, it’s called working, and I am. I can multitask. Secondly, I am never too busy for my baby sister.” _Baby sister. The nerve._ “And third, don’t try to change the subject. Is this about _a girl?”_  
  
Lena scoffed with as much incredulity as she could muster. “This is absolutely not about a girl.”

“Really?”

“Yes. _Really._ ”

“Well damn.” He sounded genuinely disappointed at that. Maybe he really did just want to catch up. “Here I was hoping my uptight sister would get laid and finally loosen up a little.” Scratch that. He was a little shit. She would personally hire assassins to murder him.  
  
“Goodbye Lex”  
  
“Wait L—”  
  
She hung up on him.  
   
_Well that went well.  
_  
\-----

The early phone call meant despite how hard she tried, Lena’s sleep was effectively ruined. She tossed and turned in bed for another half hour before giving up in favour of coffee and making headway on her attempts to get her cat to forgive her.  
  
Her hours of late night research had yielded promising results. _El Mishidh_ was a small wine supplier and distributor based just outside National City. They primarily grew Merlot, Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio, though they also supplied famous international wines occasionally. Their website had little clarification on what _occasionally_ meant or how they came about such wines, but common wisdom, as far as the forums were concerned, was that it was not unusual. Dusty old wine bottles were rarely considered important family heirlooms, and a local winery looking to purchase them would seem like a boon.  
  
What the website didn’t tell her, what Lena had to find out on her own, was the surprisingly bloody history of the business. The vineyard was originally a farm belonging to Jor El the First. After the First World War, a decorated veteran, Jor El decided to settle down. How he came up with harvesting grapes and producing wine, no one could tell. Likely the prohibition era meant he was already supplying home grown brew to anyone who wanted it, and that it was just the next logical step.  
  
Irrespective of how it happened, Jor El had a successful business in his hand, which he left to his sons Jor El Jr and Zor El. Tragedy struck when Zor El’s brother in law, Non had a falling out with the Els. There were conflicting reports as to what happened, but it ended with a fire at the farm where both brothers perished along with their wives, only leaving their children who had been away at a sleepover with a family friend. The current proprietor Kara Danvers, formerly Kara El, took over the business when she turned eighteen and was likely, the person Lena sought.  
  
Lena could feel the net closing, with Kara Danvers at the center. Yet, oddly, she did not feel the elation she thought would be present when she brought the culprit to justice. Maybe it was because she had this notion of some rich snobby guy, who thought he was cleverer than everyone, being behind this insane plot, and the story of a young orphan trying to revive her family name did not match. Or, perhaps she was felt a kind of kinship with Kara, she too had known what it was like to lose her parents early in life.  
  
Either way, she knew she had to talk to this mystery girl who did not so much have a photo, nor a facebook profile Lena could find. She could talk, and then decide what to do. After all, she could always tell Laurent about it. But not now. Later. Maybe.  
  
\-----  
  
The sun beat down on her with its merciless glare and the wide brimmed snapback Lena had worn did nothing to protect her. She could practically feel herself burning and not for the first time, did she wonder if that was how the vampire myths started – some poor pale girl dying in the sun because her useless skin couldn’t handle the best source of vitamin D that existed. It was either that, or Lena really was a vampire. Her nocturnal habits and the fact that she was in this predicament because of her hunt for a rich red liquid lent further credence to that theory.  
  
Well as long as she didn’t have to sleep in a coffin, she wouldn’t mind.  
  
The _El Mishidh_ winery offered monthly tours to prospective clients, a fortuitous turn of events for Lena. It was the perfect opportunity to meet the source of her current obsession. The tour was mostly filled with couples looking to get away from the city for a date, though quite a few adventurous souls were there hoping to run into ghosts.  
  
Although not well publicized, word of a potential haunting spread easily in certain circles and where there were ghosts, there were idiots willing to find them. Not for the first time Lena wondered how Kara felt about it. Did it bother her? Or was she so at peace with what happened that questions poking her memory failed to pierce her?  
  
Lena also wondered why she cared.  
  
\-----

The tour started informally enough. A short Latina woman with a dimpled smile introduced herself while ushering them forward. Her name was Maggie and she had been working there for the past two years.  
  
“Funny story,” she told them with a happy grin. “Was on a tour just like you guys when I met the love of my life. And the rest, as they say is history.” At this she lifted her hand to show off the diamond glinting from her third finger. The crowd oohed and aahed appropriately. Even Lena managed a smile, despite her distraction.  
  
“This place really is magical,” their guide continued. “So. keep your eyes peeled.”  
  
Two hours later, Lena was ready to give up. No mystery was worth this much heat. She had so far met a pasty, I-guess-you-could-call-him-nice-if-she-wasn’t-so-annoyed man named Winn, who crafted truly intricate hand-blown glass bottles, James, a tall, buff man who oversaw the harvesting, and Alex, the tour guide’s fiancée, a tall grumpy redhead who melted at the sight of her lover. Really, if she weren’t dying of the heat, Lena would even call it cute, but as it remained she was _dying_ , and she would _not_ say so.  
  
The next stop was thankfully the cafeteria, where they were served chilled wine with cheese and other assorted snacks. Even better, it had air conditioning. She was never leaving.  
  
“Good afternoon, everyone,” a soft feminine voice caught their attention. Lena reluctantly looked up from her candy crush game and promptly choked on her drink. Standing on one of the benches to gain their attention was the prettiest girl she had ever seen. Clad in dark grey chinos, a matching white polka dotted shirt, and thick black glasses, the girl looked like she had just stepped out of every librarian fantasy Lena had ever had. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, but the most striking of all, were the piercing blue eyes that seemed to trap her in its gaze. The building could have collapsed in that moment and Lena would not have noticed.  
  
It seemed an eternity later when the blue eyes finally released her from their thrall. The girl thanked everyone and stepped off the makeshift podium to light applause. Blinking in surprise, the CEO looked around and realized everyone was getting up and preparing for whatever the next stage of the tour was. It was only then that Lena realized she had no idea what had been said.  
  
She tapped the girl sitting to her right. The giggly blue haired young girl seemed like a safe choice, seemingly here with her friends on spring break. Lena was proved correct when her newfound friend happily let her know that the girl on stage was going to be their guide for the rest of the tour.  
  
The brunette nodded. Maybe Maggie was right, this place really could be magical.  
  
“What did you say her name was?”  
  
“Oh, it’s Kara Danvers.”  
  
_Well, fuck._

\-----  
  
This had to be a joke. A cosmic level joke. Not even Lex would be this cruel.  
  
Kara, as it turned out was smart. Really smart. Not only did she have a deep understanding of the business, but she had anecdotes for everything, relating science, philosophy and history with wine as easily as she did pop culture and bad puns. She seemed to have an encyclopedic amount knowledge about alcohol entertaining the crowd easily with ribald tales from both history and myths.  
  
Kara spoke with the easy confidence of someone who was sure of what they were doing. This was her turf and she knew it, and damn if it wasn’t sexy, which only soured Lena’s mood further. If the world were fair, Laurent would call her right now and tell her he made a mistake and there was _one_ bottle produced in 1929 and she could revel in the pretty lady and that would be that. But of course, the universe was never that accommodating.  
  
It was at the bottling factory where J’onn Jonz was showing them the correct art of wine preservation that Lena ran out of time.  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Years of Luthor training was the only thing that kept Lena from jumping out of her skin.

“Yeah, hi. I’m okay,” she smiled.  
  
“Good. I’m Kara.”  
  
“I know. I heard your speech.” Well not technically, but Kara wouldn’t know what.  
  
“Yeah well-- I--” Kara fidgeted nervously. Gone was the bravado from earlier, and two high points of colour rested on her cheeks. She looked even more adorable. She decided to take pity on the flustered blonde and stretched out her hand.  
  
“I’m Lena”  
  
The blonde immediately shook it. “Kara.”  
  
Amusement tilted up the corners of her lips. “You said,” Lena couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. Well this was an unexpected outcome.  
  
Much to Lena’s amusement, Kara’s cheeks coloured even more. “Well I-- yes-- I saw you alone and everyone here is with someone, and that doesn’t mean you can’t be alone. You don’t need anyone to go with you. You are a strong independent woman. Well, I assume. But you look pretty strong. I meant strong, not pretty, not that you aren’t pretty. You are very pretty –“  
  
“Kara, breathe please.”  
  
The blonde took a deep breath and threw her a grateful look, “Thanks for stopping me, I don’t know where that would have ended up.”  
  
“Anytime,” Lena laughed. “So, you think I am pretty?”  
  
Kara levelled her gaze at her, her clear blue eyes making Lena feel like she could see into her very soul.  
  
“Anyone with an ounce of sense can see how beautiful you are.”  
  
It was Lena’s turn to blush this time while Kara grinned at her.  
  
“So, what brings you here?” The blonde finally asked. “Don’t get me wrong, you are welcome, but this isn’t exactly a hot and happening destination for your kind.”  
  
“My kind?”  
  
“You know. Well-dressed, rich, looking like they stepped out of a fashion catalogue?”  
  
Lena frowned. She had chosen her only pair of jeans, black, and paired it with an off-shoulder white blouse. She thought she was doing pretty well on the blending in, though judging by Kara’s laugh, she was not.  
  
“It’s not the clothes, though they do look too well-tailored for us mere mortals,” Kara winked. _She fucking winked._ Lena might as well give up now. “It’s more the expensive watch, the aviators, and the fact that everyone else is dressed in either band tees or ripped jeans and didn’t spend 5 minutes deciding which wine they wanted to try. Which tells me, you’re not here to get drunk on the free booze.”  
  
“Touché” The brunette conceded with a small smile. It seemed she needed to up her game if she wanted to keep up with the blonde  
  
“So...?” The other girl prompted.  
  
Lena paused. This was the opportunity she had sought, yet now that it was here, she was oddly reluctant to follow through. It’s not like the wine was hurting anyone. The cost for even a wine as rare as that, was a mere pittance to people like Jeff. And it’s not like anyone expected her to drink it. You didn’t open a vintage so rare, everyone knew that. Had Lena not known about its impossible origins, she would have tucked it in her shelf as a prized possession and forgotten about it.  
  
But she had come this far, she couldn’t give up mid-quest. _She had to see it through_ , she repeated to herself, though it felt oddly hollow.  
  
“A colleague of mine presented me with a rather rare vintage,” she started, and odd trepidation in her voice, “Word has it that originated from your collection.”  
  
“Ah,” Kara grinned, “I knew it. Which one was it?”  
  
Lena took a deep breath and held her gaze, “A 1929 Ponsot.”  
  
All blood seemed to drain from Kara’s face while her mouth did a kind of flopping motion, opening and closing repeatedly as if she didn’t know what to say.  
  
“Did you say _1929_?” She rasped out finally.  
  
And there it was, the confirmation Lena needed.  
  
_So why did she feel so sad?_  
  
\-----  
  
Kara’s office was sparse but functional. It boasted of a desk with two chairs for visitors, a couch and seemingly overflowing filing cabinets. Her desk was covered in everything from knick-knacks to photo frames, and even a writing pad with an odd doodle or two. It was a mess, but an organized mess, that gave the space a lived-in feel. Lena liked it.  
  
It had taken a few minutes, but as soon as the blonde had stopped gaping like a fish, she had wasted no time in announcing to the group that there was some kind of emergency and that J’onn would be taking over as their guide. The older man had frowned in confusion but did not protest. With that sorted, she had dragged Lena to her office, to _talk_.  
  
That was fifteen minutes ago.  
  
So far there had been no talking. Instead Lena watched with mounting concern as the other girl continued to pace back and forth with a panicked look. Finally, Lena had enough. With Kara showing no signs of stopping, she walked up and stood in the path of the agitated blonde causing her to crash into the former.  
  
The brunette braced for impact with the ground. She hadn’t actually thought the other girl would crash into her. Clearly, she was far more distracted than originally presumed. The fall, however, never came. Strong arms bracketed her waist and held her steady at an unnatural angle in a surprising show of strength while her own arms clung onto broad shoulders for dear life. And well, if she took the opportunity to trace those shoulders, who could blame her.  
  
Kara, thankfully, took no notice of her slightly wandering hands. The blonde straightened till Lena was once again on her feet. _  
  
_ “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”  
  
“It’s not your fault, Kara. I was the one who stepped in your way,” Lena reassured the girl while quickly taking stock of her injuries. She winced as she rubbed her shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact. With her pale skin, it was definitely going to bruise.  
  
_What was she even made of, steel?  
  
_ Thankfully all her blouses would pretty much hide it. The last thing she needed was Jess, or worse, Lex to discover even more evidence to antagonize her with.  
  
The encounter, though, did its trick. Kara seemed calmer, though only a tad and actually sat down for the first time since entering the office. Only her constant fidgeting with her fingers gave away how nervous she still was.  
  
“Can I offer you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water?” She asked.  
  
Despite being in a vineyard, Kara did not offer wine, Lena noted. It was an interesting fact, to be filed away for later.  
  
“An explanation would be nice” The brunette murmured, taking the open chair in front of the blonde, angling to face her. She kept her voice as soft as she could. Kara looked like a spooked animal, ready to bolt at the slightest threat and Lena was trying her best to not upset her further. In a way, she understood. Lena now held the power to destroy everything she was building, to take away the thing that mattered most to her. Only Lena didn’t know if she could actually do that.  
  
“Yes, right, an explanation,” the blonde nodded vigorously. “Uh…where do I even start”  
  
“How about at the beginning, how did you get into wine fraud?”  
  
Kara winced at the word but did not refute it. They both knew it was true, but it was certainly in the blonde’s favour that she did not insult the CEO’s intelligence by denying.  
  
“Right. The beginning,” she let out a deep sigh, and it took everything in Lena not to go and hug the girl in front of her, to tell her it was ok, she didn’t need to know. But she did. So, she let Kara continue.  
  
“In the beginning we were struggling. I don’t know if you know the history of this place,” the blonde looked questioningly. At Lena’s affirmative nod, she continued, “So yeah, it doesn’t exactly have a nice past. I was 8 when my parents died, 18 when I re-started the business. In the wine industry, 10 years is a long time.  
  
“We fell out of favour, people forgot about us. The clientele we had grew older, moved on to different drinks. We had no contacts, no goodwill that would let us get supplies at cheaper rates to offset the initial marketing costs. Competition was higher. Back then, it was just me, Alex and Winn running this whole place, and a few extra hands we hired on a part-time basis.  
  
“Honestly, for a time, I really thought we wouldn’t make it through. And that nearly broke me. It was all I had of them, you know,” Kara looked beseechingly at the younger girl, willing her to understand.  
  
And Lena did.  
  
Sometimes a legacy was all you had. It would have been so easy to walk away after Lionel’s sudden death and the resulting turmoil when so many of his partners defected. She was never meant to be the CEO, she was meant to work in a lab somewhere deep in the heart of the building, where natural light couldn’t find her. It was the dream.  
  
Lex, she loved him, but he never really was cut out for the daily grind. He was fantastic under Lionel’s tutelage. And he really did try, to take the company back from the brink of death, back to its original reputation, to something their father could be proud of, but they both knew it wasn’t meant to be.  
  
And so, it came down either watch what her father had built crumple down or take it back and make it something better. In the end, it really wasn’t a choice at all, and looking at Kara, she knew it wasn’t a choice for her either.  
  
She nodded once and smiled at the now subdued girl, trying to convey that she understood, urging her to continue. She received a slightly watery smile in return -- not quite full, but genuine.  
  
“We made a little bit of money by selling antique liquor we procured. Most were bottles my parents had bought. They were kept in a separate building, so they survived. We were barely breaking even. That was when Maxwell Lord approached us,” Kara’s lips curled in distaste and Lena distractedly wondered who he was and what he had done to elicit such a strong reaction.  
  
“He wanted a 1945 Mouton. We had sold the last one in our stock earlier that day and I told him so.” Here Kara paused to take a deep breath, and not for the first time did Lena resist the urge to reach out to comfort her in some way.  
  
“He did _not_ like that,” the blonde continued. “Accused us of holding stock for the highest bidder. Threatened to ruin us and make us pay. Alex nearly punched him.” She smiled fondly at the memory.  
  
Lena chuckled lightly. The red head did seem the type to not suffer entitled men. She could appreciate that.  
  
“Winn arrived to see what was wrong, and Max calmed right down. Finally found a _man_ to talk to apparently,” she practically seethed and Lena decided then and there whoever he was, she would not rest till she ruined him completely. “I don’t know what they actually talked about, but they returned all chatty and he left with a smile on his face.”  
  
Lena ventured a guess, “So this Winn promised him the bottle and suggested how you could solve it?”  
  
“Yeah,” the blonde nodded before seeming to realize what that could be construed as. “But I knew what we were doing, so if anyone should be blamed it’s me. He was only trying to help me,” she added passionately.  
  
Lena smiled a little at that. Despite the short time, she knew better than to expect Kara wouldn’t stand up for her friend, even when it could benefit her. It was endearing.  
  
“I know Kara, it’s okay,” Lena reassured the blond and watched her posture slowly relax with the confirmation that Lena wouldn’t jump to conclusions.  
  
“You can guess what happened next. Winn is fantastic at glass blowing, the bottle was perfect. I told him how the label would look, and he recreated it beautifully. We filled the bottle with our own red and topped it off with a nice Merlot.  
  
“He picked it up the next day, and paid us ten times what it would have actually cost. _A little appreciation for our efforts,_ he said. I wanted to throw his money at his face but,” she shrugged almost helplessly, “the old adage remains true. Beggars really cannot be choosers. And so, when he brought his friends over, I smiled, and laughed and sold them fakes too.”  
  
Lena felt a sharp pain for what Kara must have gone through, to swallow her pride and take the abuse from a vile, sneering man, when she knew he wasn’t worth the dirt on her foot, that must have taken a huge amount of effort. Wine was not just her business, but her passion, her parent’s legacy and to have to resort to essentially lying, she couldn’t imagine that had sat well with her.  
  
Lena lost the battle with herself and reached out to clasp Kara’s palm. Soft skin met her fingers, yielding to the slightest pressure. Her index finger went on a journey of its own, tracing the hard calluses formed from working outdoors and the warm softness lying just below it. A soft pressure at her own palm let her know the blonde was conducting her own examination. It was surreal how much she could feel just from the slightest touch of her thumb.  
  
When she looked up, Kara’s smile was blinding and Lena felt her own lips quirk up in response. She almost did not want to hear the rest of the story. What did it matter anymore? She had come searching for naïve fools who thought they could trick her, Lena Luthor. And instead she had only found a young girl, a beautiful girl, trying desperately to make do with the cards she had been dealt.  
  
But she knew, she had to finish this, or they would both regret it. She gently prodded the blonde, “What happened with the auction lot.”  
  
The taller girl let out a huff, not bothering to stop her slow rhythmic tracing of lena’s wrist. Honestly, it said a lot about Lena’s mental acumen that she was able to concentrate on words at all.  
  
“That lot was never supposed to happen.”  
  
Lena arched her eyebrow at that. “Explain.”  
  
“Over the years, many more came, friends of Lord’s, friends of friends, interested in procuring prestigious wines, without having any idea of what that meant. We told them what they wanted to know.  
  
“The money…the money was good,” she sighed. “Really good, and we reasoned that they were getting what they paid for – a status symbol. It was not like any one of them would open those bottles to taste, and even if they did, it would be damn good wine. We used only a portion of what we earned from these sales, donating the rest to local charities.  
  
“Word got around and auction houses started inviting us. We only went to ones we were sure would be private, filled only by rich men and women who wouldn’t look twice at the amount they were paying. And it worked like clockwork.”  
  
Kara’s head was bowed down, as if the effort of recalling the story was physically taxing. The crinkle in her brow deepened and Lena had to resist the urge to use her thumb to smoothen it out. But she dared not interrupt.  
  
“I guess we grew complacent,” the blonde continued, “Or maybe we had made mistakes before, but no one ever noticed them. No one before you,” Here she looked up, flashing the brunette a fond smile, one Lena couldn’t help but return.  
  
“I was in Kansas when this lot was delivered. My cousin lives there with his adoptive family. Winn and Alex sent the bottles out. Honestly, I don’t know what happened,” she gestured helplessly.  
  
“All of those bottles were supposed to be Clois de la Roche, not St. Denis. And the 1929 one was supposed to be 1939. I _know_ my wine history,” her eyes blazed fiercely, almost daring Lena to call her out on it, not that the brunette would dare. It was obvious that this was a subject she grew up with, and no matter how good Lena got at learning facts, it would never really flow in her veins like it did Kara’s.  
  
The blonde slowly calmed down when no objection was put forth, her body seeming to lose the last vestiges of energy it possessed.  
  
“God, it was right there on the catalogue,” she moaned dejectedly. “I’m actually surprised no one challenged it _at_ the auction.”  
  
Slowly she slumped forward on the desk, head on her arms, the picture of exhaustion. Lena glanced at her watch and realized almost two hours had passed. The tour would be ending soon. Hesitantly, she reached out and gently dragged her palm through the blonde’s surprisingly muscular back. A few strands of hair had come loose from the tie during her pacing and they now tickled Lena’s hand.  
  
What she wouldn’t give to undo the hair completely and card her fingers through what looked like the softest tresses imaginable.  
  
Kara shifted slightly so she could peek out using one eye while still maintaining her slumped posture. She wriggled her back, in a universal gesture for _please continue,_ which Lena was happy to do. She reminded the brunette of an adorable golden retriever puppy she once got to play with. All hyper and excited, but practically melting as soon as they were petted. It was, frankly, the cutest thing ever.  
  
Lena didn’t know how long she continued her ministrations. Distant noises of the tour party returning from wherever they were finally brought them back to real life. With a groan, Kara sat up, stretching lazily, as if she just woke up from a nap. If Lena felt any loss at having to remove her hand, _that_ more than made up for it.  
  
Kara turned to her. “So that’s all of it. The entire story. I know what I did. I take full responsibility,” she finished somberly.  
  
This was it, wasn’t it? The moment she had been waiting for, when she would finally get the fraud to confess and feel the sense of triumph rushing through her. It was laughable how different this moment was to the one she had imagined. To be fair, she didn’t think she _could_ ever imagine someone like Kara.  
  
There wasn’t even a question as to what she would do.  
  
“The way I see it,” Lena began with a teasing smile, “You gave the pompous assholes exactly what they wanted, the ability to boast of their wealth to sycophants, while pretending to be cultural philistines. Not only that, you gave, what I am sure is a large amount, to charities all around,” her smirk grew as Kara looked on wide eyed. “If anything, you’re a real-life Robin Hood. Steal from the rich, give to the poor. And I do say, you would look dashing in green.”  
  
“You would look better,” the blonde replied, apparently before she realized what she had said. Her face immediately resembled a bright red tomato and she looked ready for the ground to swallow her whole. But Lena was having too much fun to let that particular event occur.  
  
“ _Really_?” Her smirk turned positively feral as she stretched out the word. “And why would that be, Ms. Danvers?”  
  
The blonde looked up once as if praying to the heavens for strength. Clearly the heavens responded because her back stiffened, her shoulders broaden as she leaned closer. A spark of mischief lit up her eyes as she leaned forward.  
  
“Because you have the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen,” she rasped right next to Lena’s ear.  
  
_Well damn. Now that definitely needed a response  
  
_ Turning her head, she gave Kara a few seconds to pull away if she wanted, but clearly the blonde had other plans. A delicious smirk still lit up the corners of her mouth, before she closed the tiny gap Lena had left. Their mouths met in a gentle touch, lips slotting together like they were made for each other. The kiss was both everything she could hope for and so much better.  
  
Lena had spent the past few hours staring at the blonde’s lips imagining how they would feel, and she could honestly her imagination was nowhere close. Blonde’s lips were full and soft, softer than she had thought. Her tongue darted out to get a much desired taste and Kara’s mouth opened to grant access. She tasted like strawberries, and the sweet wine they had served earlier, and something else that felt inherently _Kara_. She couldn’t get enough.  
  
Lack of air finally made them finally release each other panting, and Lena rested her head against the other though girl’s forehead, content to stay there and bask in the moment. She had finally got to fulfill her wish of messing up Kara’s hair, though in her defence, Kara had seemed just as intent on ruining hers.  It was perfect.  
  
An eternity could have gone by and they would have been content to stay in the little bubble they created, but unfortunately, reality had to encroach. Kara had obligations to attend to, and Lena did too. Plus, neither wanted to move too fast and shatter whatever this was.  
  
The end of each tour was marked by a small informal party. Champagne was brought out, music was put on and the guests could mingle and dance. Kara and Lena walked back hand in hand to the group already assembled. If anyone noticed, they offered no comments, and frankly, Lena didn’t care.  
  
They claimed one of the picnic blankets, already laid out, content to take in the festivities from afar. Maggie walked by once and winked at Lena looking pointedly at their joint hands. Unable to elicit a suitable response though, she waited till Kara was looking and waggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly. The blonde promptly turned red once again. It amused Lena to no end how she could be sultry one minute and blushing from head to toe the next.  
  
_Did she blush all over?_ Lena couldn’t wait to find out. But first things first.  
  
Leaning back to rest against Kara’s side, she whispered so only the blond could hear, “You know, there is one person, though, whom you owe reparations to, for your inventive business schemes.” The smile in her voice gave away that she was only teasing.  
  
“Really, whom might that be?” The blonde replied in an equally amused tone.  
  
“Why me, of course. I am neither an uncultured man, nor someone who wanted to show off their wine collection. So really, you owe me Ms. Danvers”  
  
“Oh really,” the blonde arched an eyebrow causing Lena to audibly gulp. Damn, the woman was sexy. “And pray what kind of reparations would this be?”  
  
The brunette pretended to think for a while before smiling cheekily, “Why, a date would do, I think.”  
  
Kara barked out a loud laugh causing several people to look over at them. But Lena neither cared about or the crowd or about the fact her brother would give hell because it had indeed turned out to be _about a girl_. As the first notes of music started to filter in the blonde found the brunette’s lips and let her know without words just how much she liked that idea.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Mishidh_ is Kryptonian for paradise.
> 
> This was inspired by this [tumblr post](https://yesiamsleepy.tumblr.com/post/175519041786/wait-whats-wine-forgery-how-would-you-fake). Go read it. It is seriously entertaining.
> 
> In short, there is a real Lauren Ponsot who exposed a real fraud. However he was less, shall we say, in love with the guy doing it, and called the cops. Understandable really.
> 
> The Lauren Ponsot used in this story may bear resemblances to the real life person, it may not. I don't know, I never met the guy. I was just going off the one photo I found.
> 
> I tried being as accurate as possible about the wine terms, but really, there were a lot of artistic liberties taken.
> 
> Let me know what you thought :)


End file.
